I stepped out of Druid Circle, but instead of going back to MonsterFit, I intended to use the doorway in the alcove to hop to another location in Faerie. It was a neutral area, not part of the realm of any kingdom, that was simply known as the Carnival. It was a place known for shady business and illegal trade, and I thought I might be able to glean something more about the VAMP3 blood trade.
The oblivion of the netherwhere folded me into its welcome coolness. But a second later, I realized something wasn’t right. The empty void didn’t feel as empty as it usually did.
I automatically tried to reach for Mort, but there was no hand to move, no sword to grasp. Physical form didn’t exist in the netherwhere the way it did in the world. Yet, something began winding around me, curling like tentacles. My mind strained to fight, but it was like being tied up while paralyzed in the black vacuum of space.
Something had followed me into the void, and it was holding me there. Too long, and I’d never return to the world. My mind thrashed again, trying to command phantom limbs to battle my attacker, but nothing happened.
I was drowning . . . suffocating . . . dissolving into the void.
No.
I wasn’t going to die this way.
My thoughts raced, trying to conjure in my mind the sigils for a doorway—any doorway. It was the only thing I could think to try. If I could concentrate hard enough on them, maybe it would be enough to draw me out of the netherwhere.
A symbol appeared in my mind, and in my panic I wasn’t even sure which doorway it belonged to. I focused on it, grasping at it with all the energy I could muster, and it lit into lines of flame in my imagination.
The doorway spilled me out of the netherwhere, and I fell to my hands and knees, panting as if I’d been held under water.
I stayed there for several seconds, drinking in gulps of air and reveling in the pounding of my own heart. I was still alive. There was a muffled noise nearby. I raised my head. There was a glass door in front of me, and Lemony was on the other side. He rose to his back feet, placing his front paws on the door as if scratching to be let in. I was back in the vestibule of MonsterFit.
A strange smell clung to my clothes—metal and blood and decay. My entire body seemed to throb and itch, the sensation intensifying as the chill of the netherwhere wore off. I raised my arm and pulled back my sleeve to find red welts striping my skin.
I stared at them as my heart skipped a beat. I’d felt this before, once during training when we were learning strategies to fight magical vulnerabilities. Cold iron burns. If not for my New Gargoyle blood, those welts would be terrible, agonizing burns. For reasons unknown to us, New Gargs were a bit more resistant to iron than other races of Fae. But the longer the exposure, the worse the burns. Eventually cold iron would eat right through a Fae body.
My stomach turned. Somebody really didn’t want me to come out of the netherwhere alive. I swept my gaze side to side, suddenly paranoid. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to hang out right in front of a doorway. Who knew what might come through.
Just as I reached for the door handle to pull myself up, my phone began exploding with bleeps. I got to my feet and then pulled out the device, absently whispering the Faerie magic words that allowed me to pass out of the locked vestibule as if the walls were air.
The Vegas heat hit me like a furnace blast. Lemony began weaving around my legs while I scanned through my messages. There were half a dozen from Maxen. I read the first one.
Petra, are you okay? The club owner at Druid Circle was murdered by a wraith. He wrote your name in blood before he died.
I swallowed hard. Gregory was dead? Damn. Anger began to harden in the pit of my stomach. I’d just been with him at Druid Circle. He’d tried to help me, and now he was gone.
My breath died. That was what the dead smell was, the tendrils that had tried to squeeze the life out of me. A wraith had come after me in the netherwhere.
Each subsequent message was more urgent. I dialed Maxen, but his phone went to voicemail. I left a quick message to let him know I was alive.
I scrolled through the messages again, confused.
“I just saw Gregory,” I muttered. The wraith must have attacked him literally the second after I left and then come straight for me.
I looked up, shaking my head. Then I noticed the low angle of the sun. I looked down at my phone again to check the time and just stared. It couldn’t be right. Again, I looked at the sky and then at the digital clock readout.
In spite of the heat, my blood chilled. I’d been in the netherwhere for almost four hours.
I dialed Maxen again, and this time he answered.
“Petra?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said. “But I think the same wraith that killed Gregory tried to kill me in the netherwhere. It held me there for hours.”
“Thank Oberon you’re in one piece.” He let out a whoosh of a breath. “A wraith in the netherwhere? Damn it to Maeve. I’ve been searching for you in Faerie. No wonder no one’s heard from you in a while. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’ve got iron burns, but they’re not bad. Otherwise I’m fine.” I sounded a little calmer than I felt.
“Why would the owner of Druid Circle give the wraith your name?”
“It’s connected to my Guild assignment. I went to speak to the deceased right before I went into the doorway.”
“You can’t screw with wraiths, Petra,” Maxen said. “This is high-level. Way beyond merc work.”
I used my fingers to comb my hair back from my forehead.
“Don’t worry about it, Maxen. I’ll be fine.”
I forced a level tone, but inside I was pissed. Not at Maxen, but at whoever had sent the wraith to kill Gregory and then come after me. You had to be either desperate or extremely stupid to go after someone in the netherwhere. The doorways were made by ancient, intricate magic, and the netherwhere was a profound magical achievement. Trying to attack someone there was a real asshole move.
Yet, someone had done just that.
“Do you want me to tell Oliver?” Maxen demanded.
“No, Maxen,” I said, irritation edging my voice. “Please do not go tell my daddy.”
He sighed heavily. “Fine. But if you don’t show up at noon tomorrow, I go straight to Oliver.”
I echoed his sigh. “All right.” I knew he was just trying to look out for me.
“Be careful.”
“I will.” I hung up.
Letting out a long breath that ended in a grumble, I looked down at Lemony, who was sitting at my feet and flicking his tail. I reached for a treat and then tossed it to him.
The sensation of the wraith trying to squeeze the life out of me crowded into my mind again, and my heart thumped at the memory. I swallowed sourly and brushed my fingers across the front of my neck, still feeling the choking sensation.
Wraiths were disembodied spirits that on their own were harmless and invisible to the living. But if a living person caught a wraith and imbued it with magical power, it became a problem. The one who gifted the power also commanded the wraith.
Maxen was right about wraiths. They were nothing to screw around with.
“Not good, Lemony,” I muttered, bending to scratch the cat under his chin. “Even I’m willing to admit that.”